


Embers

by minutiae



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski, Witcher - Fandom
Genre: 0 feet apart around a campfire because they're gay, Cutagens | Cute Effects of Mutagens (The Witcher), Geralt thinks he's a monster, Happy Ending, Jaskier being a dramatic little shit, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Pavetta deserved better, Purring Witchers (The Witcher), Self-Esteem Issues, Soft Witchers (The Witcher), Solstice celebration, Spy Jaskier | Dandelion, Storytelling, TEEF!, They're gay your honor, Truth out of the mouths of children, flashfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28401678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minutiae/pseuds/minutiae
Summary: Witcher Flashfic Secret Santa Edition“It’s a beautiful night to remember family,” said Vesemir as he sipped carefully from a steaming mug.“No, absolutelynot, we are not going to sit here and moan over old stories.” Lambert growled, poking the fire with a long stick. “We’ve lost enough. Bard, tell the princess a story. A good one, of family thatlives.”A story about a family who lived.
Relationships: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher), Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Comments: 24
Kudos: 75
Collections: The Witcher Flash Fic Challenge: Secret Santa (TWFFSS20)





	Embers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [and_a_dash_of_Angst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/and_a_dash_of_Angst/gifts).



The fire burned bright and high in the deep dark of the winter solstice. They’d piled furs around a fire pit dug outside the keep walls in a small meadow surrounded by the tall pine trees that made the world feel small but the sky looked enormous. Despite the bright fire, and the embers that floated up through the trees, the stars were brilliant in the cold night air.  
  
Ciri was settled in Geralt’s lap, buried under a wool blanket and heavy furs, while the rest of their found family settled around the fire with them. Vesemir was the last to join, settling into the furs between Geralt and Eskel.  
  
“It’s a beautiful night to remember family,” said Vesemir as he sipped carefully from a steaming mug. 

“No, absolutely not, we are _not_ going to sit here and moan over old stories.” Lambert growled, poking the fire with a long stick. “We’ve lost enough. Bard, tell the princess a story. A good one, of family that _lives.”_ _  
_ _  
_ Jaskier hummed, leaning on Eskel. His lute was left behind- the sharp cold air, the errant glowing ashes and snowmelt from the campfire bore too much danger to it.  
  
“A story of a family who _lived._ Ah, I can do this. Cirilla, darling, you remember all the winters I would visit you? Let’s tell the others.”  
  
“Once upon a time, there was a lion cub who lived with her lioness mother-”  
  
“Starting from the beginning? Fair enough. Once upon a time, there was a lion cub. She lived in the court with her lioness mother, and her hedgehog of a father. She lived a life steeped in magic and love. Destiny decided that not two parents, but three, were what this child needed to truly thrive. One day, her brilliant, brave mother uncovered a dastardly plot to usurp her birthright. The beautiful and strong lioness left her cub with her own mother- another strong, powerful lioness in her own right- for safekeeping.  
  
But the plot went sideways. The young cub’s birth parents were lost at sea for years- and the cub was raised by the elder lioness. Still, every year her father’s bard friend would spend winters in her court. He taught her music, and the magic of stories. He taught her to sing, and dance in the deep snows of winter. He taught her the ways of the wolves, and told stories he’d heard of the White Wolf and his pack. The rest of the year he traveled with her father, until he heard whispers, secret stories that the lioness may have survived, as the hedgehog knight did.  
  
So one year, after her father and his friend had a bitter argument, he took the time to risk a search for the lost lioness. Properly search, everywhere. And he found her. The bard found the lioness, scared and alone, the same dark autumn under the shadow of Nilfgaard that the father found his destined daughter.  
  
Destiny knew what she was doing. The father and daughter bonded, deep and true, as he carried her to safety in the northern keep he called home, with the wolves that were his family. The bard knew the quiet circles and secret-keepers, the gossipers and betrayers. He found the lioness a quiet home, safe on Skellige, far from the hedgehog knight. It was unlikely anyone would recognize her, as the bard spent the year teaching her how to dye her hair, how to code switch her speech, to fit in and survive in hiding. They grew to be very close friends, and the bard was sad to leave- but spring was coming again and he needed to let his friend know.  
  
So the brave bard set off with the gift of a kiss to keep him safe-”  
  
“Ew, Jaskier.”  
  
“Quiet, Cirilla. I didn't say what _kind_ of kiss. Do you want to hear the story? Shush.”  
  
Ciri sat back, mulish and impertinent, much to the amusement of the others.  
  
“Now- it had been a very busy year. Nilfgaard had ravaged the continent. The wolves retreated home, the youngest having finally found his own lost love.”  
  
Lambert made a farting noise with his lips at the mention, but was shushed easily with a gentle hand. The hand was mostly immobile, saved only by mutagens, but the shattered bones in the palm left it nearly useless. The touch to his lips were gentle, but served well, the young wolf caught the damaged hand that saved his Cat’s life and pressed a kiss to it as they listened to the story continue.  
  
“The bard couldn’t find his old friend the White Wolf, but was lucky enough to stumble across his dearest friend. They traveled together through the year, building their own friendship and learning more about their shared family. They returned to the keep early, as the increasing danger they found from Nilfgaard had the witcher nervous.  
  
In the keep they found the cub, and soon all four wolves and the bard were hunkered down for the winter. They grew into a close family, full of trust and love. Every winter after the first, they brought home stories for the cub any time they traveled from her side. The next year, the youngest even brought home more family thought lost.”  
  
Ciri cooed at the way Aiden nosed at Lambert’s ear, resting a chin on his shoulder. Lambert just flushed and swatted halfheartedly at the affectionate cat.  
  
“Knock off the sentiment, bard.” Though his words bit, Lambert still held Aiden’s mangled hand in his own, gently massaging and working the seized muscles.  
  
They were quiet for a while, relishing the quiet company of family. The crackle of the fire, the sharp snaps of the wood burning held the silence at bay until Eskel spoke, wrapping one large hand around the lump of blankets that covered Ciri’s foot.  
  
“Your mother’s a rare and very special sort of person, little cub. So brave, to try to protect you herself. To love someone so deeply who looked a monster.”  
  
Lambert snapped nearly reflexively, “We’re all monsters around this fire, Eskel.” There was no surprise, but merely determination when Aiden sat up from leaning over Lambert’s back, swatting at him with his discarded mittens.  
  
“Absolutely not, you short little shit. _No._ Am I a monster? A useless one, if I am, missing an eye. Couldn’t even dodge, all I managed was to get my hand up, and look, now I’m down a hand _and_ an eye. Is it so self sacrificing to love me?” Lambert quailed, his sharp retorts lost. It was a battle Aiden had fought repeatedly, determined to tear down the walls of Lambert’s self hatred. Bright green eyes glowed wide and bright in the darkness, the inhuman reflection sparkling all the more for the shine of hurt.  
  
“No, love, no.” Lambert caught Aiden’s face, pressing their foreheads together, Aiden’s angry growl at the slight slowly, slowly calmed into a purr, relaxing and wrapping around the prickly wolf, slowly melting into his lap docile and calm again.  
  
“You’re the best person I know, kitten. I couldn’t have any better by my side than you.” Lambert murmured softly, a hand brushing through short blonde hair. One green eye peered up from his lap, before his arm was caught gently between Aiden’s sharp teeth. The threat was clear, and Vesemir snorted at the pair.  
  
Ciri was half asleep, but watching from across the fire. Her voice was soft and sleep drunk, but it resounded through the darkness as if she screamed it. 

“Dad has said he’s the most monstrous of you all. But he’s not a monster. All of you can smell so very well, I don’t have to be scared of getting sick from off food. I got very sick, before Dad found me- it’s so hard to tell when food is not good sometimes. I wish I had sharp teeth like him, so my smile can be wicked and dangerous for when people try to scare me because I am small. Can I have sharp teeth, dziadek?”  
  
Vesemir murmured an assent, reaching to brush a hand through Ciri’s hair.  
  
“I’m so glad I have my monster dad to keep me safe. He tries to say he’s ugly sometimes, like Lambert does. He’s not. But my teeth aren’t sharp like Aidens. Biting doesn’t work as well. His eyes are special, and can see so well. Look at Eskel’s, they glow in the dark so pretty and gold. Even Dad agrees, Eskel has the prettiest eyes. Do pretty eyes mean you’re a monster?”  
  
“No, princess. You’re right. Geralt isn’t a monster, no matter how pretty his eyes or sharp his teeth.” Eskel’s low voice rumbled through the dark.  
  
Jaskier watched his friend stare across the fire before he rose smoothly, patting the big witcher on the shoulder.  
  
“It is time for good little princesses to go to bed. It is very late.” Jaskier scooped up the young princess, still wrapped in a blanket, before Vesemir scooped her out of his arms with a raised eyebrow. Jaskier picked up the sword Vesemir had left at his feet, before he propped it on his shoulder and bowed goodnight obnoxiously to his small audience.  
  
“Come along, bard. Let us talk about ways to let this little cub at least get letters to her mother.”  
  
Ciri made a noise from within the blankets as she wiggled her face free that had them both pause before Jaskier just snorted. “You’re right, little cub. We’ll talk to Yennefer first. We can’t risk your mother’s hiding place while you’re both still in danger. We value her safety just as highly as yours, sweetling.”

“No kissing my mom, Jaskier.”  
  
Jaskier made a scandalized noise, poking Ciri’s head gently. “ _She_ kissed _me,_ you terror. And I’d rather like the opportunity to do that a second time, so we’ll revisit this conversation at a later date when you’re properly awake.”  
  
Vesemir just snorted. “All those years in her mother’s court, tutoring her daughter, and it took finding her in a run down barn to actually get to know her?”  
  
“You know my priorities were Ciri, Ves.”  
  
Four sets of glowing eyes watched their progress, listening to the soft conversation carry through the cold, still air. They were out of sight and earshot when Aiden stretched, long and loose. The Cat stared at the two across the fire before rolling smoothly upright, stretching tall before pulling Lambert to his feet.  
  
“Mmm. With all this talk of ugliness I need to go remind my growly pup he’s the prettiest princess to me.” Aiden trailed frozen fingers along Lambert’s beard, tipping his chin up to press a kiss to his lips chastely. “Fire safety, Eskel. You two don’t mind staying until the fire burns down, yes?”  
  
Eskel flushed brightly, “It’s not the worst watch I’ve ever taken, Aiden, we’ll be fine.”  
  
“I’m sure.” His eyes slid to Geralt. “Whatever will you do to pass the time, with such pretty eyes across the fire?”  
  
Lambert snatched up his sword and dragged Aiden away, but the bright mischief and the gleam of sharp teeth in a knowing smile had Eskel’s smile faltering. They were long gone, and the silence of the night had only been broken by a small hunk of wood tipping over, the fire flaring bright for a moment as embers filled the sky.  
  
Geralt finally just huffed, getting up and dropping down again beside his oldest friend. Eskel’s breath caught, and it took a moment to wrest himself under control before he managed to loop his arm around Geralt’s back, who just pressed himself closer, shifting the blankets and furs around them to build a small nest. Eskel just watched quietly, feeling the rumble of the soft purr roll through Geralt when he found their pile acceptable.  
  
The snow had been dug out to form the loosest interpretation of a couch when the small circle had been created, and Eskel just raised his eyes to the sky in thanks to Aiden. The tall cat just smiled, one arm propped on Vesemir’s shoulder as they supervised Eskel digging out a fire pit and the seating around it earlier today. Vesemir had covered the seating with the wool blankets before they piled the furs and blankets on top. The ring was small, and the fire a modest size. Eskel had wondered at the time if it would be enough.  
  
He allowed himself to be bullied backward, laying back against a cool spot of their nest that was chilly through the heavy sweater he wore. Ciri had demanded that armor be left at home, though Lambert, Vesemir and Geralt had brought swords, just in case. It had been a hard bargain. But as Eskel was lost in his thoughts, Geralt pushed, firmly, until Eskel was laying down. He watched Geralt tangle their legs together as he laid back. Geralt stayed seated, leaning back to face Eskel’s relaxed form. Unbidden, the words Ciri said drifted through his mind, watching Geralt stare up at the stars, his eyes luminescent in the darkness. Eskel couldn’t think of a better solstice than to be curled up with him in the wool blankets and furs that insulated them from the snow and the bitter chill of the night.  
  
“The prettiest eyes, eh?” Eskel isn’t sure why he asked. He and Geralt had always been inseparable, but never dared reach across the divide that seemed to stretch tenuously between them. Geralt tensed, and it was all Eskel needed to know Ciri had repeated his words truthfully.  
  
“You’re not the one here who looks a monster, Geralt. Though it was kind of you to try and dampen her fear of me. Didn’t work, though. She was terrified of me those first days. M’glad she’s not anymore.”  
  
Geralt looked at him, frowning. “When- what?”  
  
Eskel just smiled softly and shifted, burrowing deeper into the soft furs, crossing his arms behind his head.  
  
“Y’think Pavetta can make Jaskier settle down at all? He likes the chase. Don’t know if he’d let himself be caught, even by her.” Eskel mused, nudging the still quiet Geralt. His eyes were narrowed as he watched Eskel lounge back.  
  
“Pavetta? Won’t you- aren’t you?”  
  
Eskel glanced over at him, but now Geralt was stressed, twisting his fingers through the long fur in his lap. He was frowning. “Geralt. Did you think we were… more? We’re just friends. He knows my heart’s already taken, anyway.”  
  
He watched Geralt swallow, not looking at him, and sitting very, very still. Eskel hummed for a moment, then reached forward, pulling Geralt toward him, until he was unbalanced enough to have to crawl close, on his hands and knees above Eskel’s supine form. He was caught in Eskel’s bright gaze- the flickering light of the fire made them dance in the darkness, and his bright, sharp smile as he drew Geralt close just looked hungry.  
  
“I have an idea of what to do about those very pretty eyes across the fire, if you’re amenable. Rather thought Aiden was talking shit, tryin’ to rile me up. He wasn’t, was he? Come here, my beautiful monster. I think I’ve waited too many years for you to kiss me.”

  
  
  



End file.
